High-Powered, Hot-Blooded / Westmoreland's Way: High-Powered, Hot-Blooded / Westmoreland's Way

She was too surprised to be afraid. Before she could figure out what to do next, Duncan walked through the half-open door.

“McCoy,” he said.

Tim spun to face his boss. “What are you doing here?”

“I have an appointment with your sister.”

Tim swung back to Annie, then looked her up and down. “You’re going out with him?”

She nodded.

Tim’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “Figures. I’m getting screwed and you’re going on a date. Nice. Talk about ignoring your family.”

The accusation burned down to her belly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered. “This is about saving our family, something you don’t care about.”

Duncan grabbed Tim’s arm. “She’s right. As we discussed, you’ll report to the treatment facility by nine tomorrow morning or there will be a warrant for your arrest.”

Tim looked between them. “You’re in this together. You’re selling me out with this bastard? Dammit, Annie.”

Duncan stepped between them. “Enough, McCoy. It’s time for you to leave. Remember, by nine in the morning.”

“Why wait?” Tim asked bitterly. “I’ll go now.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

Tim shook off Duncan’s hand, then walked to the door. He paused and glanced back at her. “Do you even care?”

Annie pressed her lips together and refused to answer. Tim would manipulate her if she gave him the chance. She’d never been able to stand up to him, but maybe it was time to start learning how.

She squared her shoulders. “Good luck, Tim. I hope this works.”

He glared at her. “It doesn’t matter if it does, Annie. Either way, I’m never going to forgive you.”

Chapter Three

Duncan drove toward the hotel. Annie was silent, but he was aware of her next to him. He could inhale the scent of her subtle and feminine perfume. When he turned his head to the right, he caught a glimpse of her sleek thighs. Every now and then he heard a soft sigh.

“Are you mad at me or Tim?” he asked.

“What? Neither of you.” She shifted toward him. “Mr. Patrick, I really appreciate your help with Tim. And he will, too. Eventually.”

Unlikely, Duncan thought. But he’d been wrong before. Maybe rehab was what Tim needed. If it didn’t work, he would screw up again and find himself in jail.

“I’ve been calling him all week,” she admitted. “Trying to explain. Today is the first time I’ve seen him since we made our deal. He was so angry.”

“You know he’s lashing out at you because it’s safe, right?” he asked. “He can’t admit he has a problem, so it has to be everyone else’s fault.”

“I know, but it was still hard to hear.”

Tim was damn lucky to have Annie for his sister, Duncan thought. Unlikely he would recognize that, either.

“You going to be all right?” he asked.

“You mean can I still do my job?” she asked with a smile. “Yes. As well as I could have before Tim showed up.” She bit her lower lip. “I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”

Hell of a time to admit that, he thought, amused by her honesty. “Going to parties? There’s not much of an expectation. Look pretty and smile adoringly at me. You got through college. This should be easy by comparison.”

“There’s a little more to it than that,” she said. “Or aren’t I expected to hold a conversation?”

“You’re talking just fine.”

“You’re less scary than a room full of people I don’t know.”

“Then maybe you should call me Duncan instead of Mr. Patrick.”

Her breath caught. He liked the sound. It was unexpected and sexy as hell. The kind of sound a woman made when…

He stopped himself in midthought. Hold on there, he told himself. Annie McCoy was many things, but sexy? He slid his gaze across her bare thighs. Okay, yeah, maybe sexy applied, but it was beside the point. He’d hired her to do a job—nothing more. Besides, she wasn’t his type.

“Duncan,” she said softly.

He looked at her and their eyes met. Hers were a deep blue, wide, with dark lashes. Her hair was different, he thought, remembering the curls. Tonight it was smooth, with waves. Sleek, he thought, although he preferred the curls. The dress was appropriate. He appreciated the way it emphasized her curves, not to mention the flash of thigh.

“You look good,” he said.

She tugged at the hem of her dress. “It’s Cameron’s doing. He was great. Funny and really knowledgeable about fashion. He made a list of what shoes and evening bags go with each dress.”

“Cameron knows his stuff.”

“He mentioned you were college roommates.”

Duncan chuckled. “That was a long time ago. I’ll admit he was the first openly gay guy I’d ever met and that I wasn’t happy to have him as my roommate.”

“Too macho to understand?” she asked.

“Partially. I also had the idea that he would attack me in my sleep, which was pretty stupid of me. It took a while, but we became friends. When he moved back to L.A. a few years ago and opened his own business, he looked me up. I signed on as a client.”

“He was nice,” she said. “My cousins and Kami had a great time shopping, too.”

“They went with you?”

“Uh-huh. You said I can keep the clothes, which is very nice of you, but honestly, can you see me wearing anything like this ever again? It’s not exactly suitable for the classroom.” She smiled. “So everyone came with me and offered opinions. As long as Cameron agreed with the choices, I got outfits they can wear later. We’re all about the same size.”

“You’re going to give your cousins and their friend your clothes when this is done?”

“Isn’t that okay? You said you didn’t want them back.”

“I don’t have a lot of use for them. They’re yours.”